


Has He Got Enough Money To Spend? - Wolf Of Wall Street AU

by parisianstyles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drug Dealer Zayn, Endgame Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, F/F, F/M, I've changed this slightly so that Donny/Niall doesn't marry his cousin, Jade is Harry's PA, LMAO, Little Mix only play minor characters, Louis in Panties, M/M, Minor Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson, Recreational Drug Use, Rich Harry Styles, Wolf of Wall Street AU, if you haven't seen the movie I apologise, ik it's an odd pairing but they're exes, ik it's weird to have Emma Roberts in this but I like her so, nothing too nsfw, past Joe Jonas/Jade Thirlwall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-12-20 05:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11914371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parisianstyles/pseuds/parisianstyles
Summary: Harry's a baker turned billionaire as he becomes a stockbroker in New York City after building his own brokerage firm. Niall quits his job to work for Harry. There's a lot of fucking drugs. The FBI get involved. Chaos ensues.Title is named after The 1975's song 'M.O.N.E.Y'.





	1. Chapter 1

'My name is Harry Styles, former member of the middle-class, raised by two accountants in a tiny apartment in Bayside, Queens. The year I turned 23 as the head of my own brokerage firm, I made forty-nine million dollars, which really pissed me off because it was three shy of a million a week. Ever since my very first day on Wall Street I knew that being a stock broker was a tough job. No kid sets their mind on being a stock broker when they’re young. Hell, I was convinced that I’d remain a baker for the rest of my life before I jetted out to JFK, four years ago.'

'You are pond scum. Got a problem with that...Harry?' The guy at the front desk spat whilst squinting through his thick-rimmed glasses at Harry's makeshift name tag.  
'No sir' He retaliated.  
'Good, 'cuz that's why you are, kid. Pond scum. Come this way'. The man with a receding hairline and dark navy suit led him to an elevator, then to the ninth floor, and then to his desk. 'So this is where you'll be working. As far as you're concerned I'm the fucking Messiah of all brokerage firms. You got that?'  
'No, sir.' Harry repeated, sitting down at the uncomfortable office chair, placing his briefcase over his lap.

Harry's first job as a connector was tough, and to think that a senior broker made over a million dollars a month had him gulping back thick saliva in fear, whilst twiddling his thumbs and waiting for that all-important first call. Nick, that was his name. Nick Grimshaw. The second person to greet him on his first day on Wall Street.  
‘Ah, so you must be Harry, then. Did you really pitch a stock during your interview?’ He asked, glasses sliding slightly down his nose.  
‘I had to do something to stand out, sir’  
Nick laughed breathily, before clapping a hand on Harry's back ‘I fucking love that’. The clock struck 9;30am. Harry's heart began racing as the office began to fill with raised voices, swearing and ranting down cream-coloured cord telephones, with grease lining the foreheads of those around him. The building quickly raised from a quiet, low hum to a ranting and raging swearing match. By lunch, Grimshaw had already set his eyes on Harry, coercing him into the restaurant on the top floor of the building.  
‘You got a girlfriend?’ He asks, running a hand through his thick brown hair and raising a martini glass with the other.  
‘I’m, uh, I’m married’ I stutter whilst thinking about my wife. ‘Emma’. I’d met Emma Roberts whilst at a bar in upstate New York, whilst hanging with a few friends in the same apartment block as me. The rest, you could say, was history.  
‘See, think about Emma. It’s your job to support her, and yourself of course, right? Fuck the clients. Fuck ‘em. We’re selling overpriced stocks because we need to, and we can. Do it for Emma, Harry. You tell these clients to reinvest their earnings, and they will. They won’t think twice about it, because as far as they’re concerned, you’re making them money’ Nick emphasises, using air quotes around the word ‘money’.  
‘And we make the money via commission’ His face lights up as he claps his hands together as if he’s just performed some sort of magic trick. Harry's completely hooked on every word he’s saying, because it all makes sense now. It’s a complete rip-off.  
‘That’s simply incredible, sir.’  
‘Please, Harry. Call me Nick. And stay relaxed, yes?’ Nick offers a wine glass. He lowers his voice as if he’s telling some sort of secret. The glass is filled with a sweet, white wine. It’s a good beginning.  
‘Consider this a gift from me.’ Nick says, slipping a tiny glass tube into the younger man's blazer pocket. ‘Coke. Keeps you sharp between the ears and you’ll be dialling those numbers faster.’ Harry nods, as Nick tips the waiter generously with five twenty dollar bills. Despite being somewhat of a money-scamming scumbag, Nicks heart is somewhat in the right place.


	2. Chapter 2

On so-called "black Monday”, just three weeks after starting his first job on Wall Street, the market had dropped 508 points before the clock had hit 3pm, the biggest plummet in years. And that was it. He was out of work entirely. The company Harry worked for fell flat on its face and the kid was left with next-to-nothing, sat right where he began in his and Emma’s shitty apartment. Emma and Harry discussed potential career options whilst flicking through the morning paper, until she found a place, albeit a small firm in Long Island, that was actually hiring stockbrokers. So he pulled up at 8am on a Thursday, and tried to get a job. The building was shitty, not a single computer in sight. Their stocks came entirely from pink sheets, which sold 6 cent stocks. It was all very lowkey and almost entirely unregulated, unlike the blue chip stocks. But the commission was 50 percent markup, he thought, and…well, you don’t need to know about numbers to know that he was about to make some sort of bank on this shit. 'All I have to do is bullshit my way through one call, and I have the new firm wrapped around my little finger.' That first call got him 40,000 shares from a single client, making £1,000 on the spot. He drove over to the local diner after a long day when a blonde, slim guy around Harry's age approached him, with a grin on his face.

‘Is that your car in the lot?’ He asked, pointing to the red Mercedes. Harry nodded. ‘Y’know, I see that car a lot around here, we must live in the same apartment block, I’m fourth floor on Franklin, East.’  
‘I’m twelfth’ Harry smiled back, offering his hand to shake, and the blonde irishman did, thoroughly. He seemed friendly enough but Harry couldn’t possibly understand why he’d wanted to talk, especially at a washed-up retro diner at half seven in the evening.  
‘Look this…may seem a little weird but, what do you do for work?’ He asked, taking a sip of Pepsi.  
‘I’m a stockbroker’. He seemed a little taken aback.  
‘Not to, oh God, I’m sorry, but…how much do you make?’  
‘No, it’s fine, I made seventy-two thousand last month.’ He seemed stunned, and nearly clapped a hand over his mouth. He then took out a scratched iPhone from his black denim jeans and placed it on the table.  
‘If you show me a pay check for 72k, I’ll quit my job, right here, right now, and I’ll work for you, sir.’ He motioned to the phone. Harry slipped his black briefcase from under the table, retrieved the last pay check and slid it over to him.  
‘Harry Styles?’ The curly-haired man nodded. ‘Great to meet you, I’m Niall Horan.’ Niall took the pay check from the envelope, studying it briefly before picking up his phone and dialling a number.

‘Hi Carol, nice to talk to you…no, I don’t need my shift covering…uh, no, I…I quit. Yep. Right now, I’m sorry, Carol, it’s not working out with me. I quit. Okay…goodbye.’ He hangs up the phone and shrugs his shoulders, the same grin on his face as before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I'm not really sure how happy I am with this chapter, so please leave constructive criticism or suggestions if there's anything I could improve on, and thank you to the people leaving kudos/reading this, it means a lot. ♡


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> filler chapter bc I bulk wrote this weeks ago before posting it! and now I have to catch up w/ more chapters lol how fun, anyway sorry that this is mainly dialogue + a tiny bit of ziam :')

So that’s how it happened, Niall and Harry stepping into what was virtually the unknown to set up a brokerage firm of their own. But they needed brokers, in the form of Niall’s friends, Zayn and Liam. The three of them had been friends since high school and were looking for work, since Zayn was in the ‘dealing profession’, which mostly involved selling quaaludes to 17 year olds or steroids to local gym rats, and Liam? Well, Liam grew up pretty wealthy, meaning he had a penthouse that he and Zayn could share. It took some persuasion though.

‘How the fuck am I supposed to sell some dirtbags some fuckin’ stocks down the phone? Do I look like I have any fuckin’ experience?’ Zayn half-shouted, stealing a chip from Liam’s plate.  
‘C’mon, Ni, show ‘em how it’s done’ Harry dug out a biro from his jean jacket and flung it across the diner table to him. 'Sell me that pen’  
‘Alright. Sign your name on that napkin. See, you can’t fuckin’ do it. Need m’pen’  
‘Exactly. You create a sense of urgency. Besides, these dudes will do anything to get rich quick, they’re already pining after those penny stocks before you’ve said a word, Zayn.’  
‘Right. Fine. But only because I need the cash ‘cuz I can’t keep skipping rent on you, babe’ He turned to face Liam, smiling slightly. Despite having this tough outer shell persona thing going on, Zayn was a sweetheart. Harry had known from the very beginning. The leather jacket and dark eyes and slick hair was entirely misleading. Liam planted a kiss on Zayn’s neck, causing him to giggle.  
‘Well, when you’re quite finished’ Niall laughed. ‘So I’m assuming you’re in too, Li?’  
‘Absolutely’.

It had been a few months in and, sure, they were making a couple grand between them whilst working in some warehouse with a low-priced lease, but it wasn’t nearly enough to get by on.  
‘Why aren’t you selling to rich people, honey? At least they can afford to lose money in the long run.’ Emma asked, snaking a hand up Harry’s back.  
‘I’m not here to play Robin Hood, baby. I have a job to do, these rich folk, they…they don’t wanna buy from us.’ Harry retaliated, with some sort of guilt. He knew the middle class would buy from them, but at the same time, would they continue to buy? Surely not, if those poorer folk kept losing money.  
‘Well make them, you know?’ Emma’s thick accent emphasised her words. Unlike Harry and the boys, she had actually grown up in one of New York’s suburbs, and knew her way around better than Harry. ‘You can’t keep on chasing the little guys, they’re not loyal customers.’ Even though Emma’s stubborn attitude would usually land them in some sort of argument, Harry understood this time. It was time to rebrand, to appeal to the top-earning folk.


	4. Chapter 4

‘Stratton Oakmont are now appealing to the big guys. We attract them with the big brands, then once we’ve eased them in and earned their trust, we pull out the penny stocks.’ Harry was convinced Liam was some sort of genius.  
‘On top of that, we pretend that these penny stocks are where it’s at. M’gonna give you all a script now, Liam and I worked it out, see. This is what’s gonna make the rich guys trust us.’ Harry says as he hands out papers upon papers, all with the same exact text, which was gonna elevate their game to the next level. The company has grown significantly now, and they’re hiring more than ever. Stratton Oakmont is perhaps the only firm in New York that has truly built its way from the ground up. It only took three months before the warehouse shut down and the boys could finally move back to a Wall Street office. They’d gone from making two thousand dollars between them to making two-hundred thousand per person, now with seventy members of staff manning the phones and shoving penny stocks down clients throats. Harry had made a name for himself, even in the places he didn’t necessarily want. The FBI were always ten steps behind however, seeing as it was near impossible for any outsiders to see exactly what went on at Stratton. As for the staff? Never. Why would they snitch if they were making more fucking money than ever before? As far as they were concerned, Harry Styles was some sort of God. By now, he’d garnered fame, and he’d done so at an alarming velocity. Perrie, the secretary for Stratton, spent the majority of her day yelling at the press to shut them out. Forbes magazine had done an article on Harry and now everybody and their mother was dying to work for him. ‘From baker to broker’ was the headline Forbes used, that caused the most amount of commotion in the office.

And of course, with fame, came some amazing parties.

‘Oh my God Harry, you’ve gotta come check this guy out’ Liam gasped, taking Harry by the hand and running down the stairs with him. By now Harry had managed to come out to the guys, and in this moment he was incredibly thankful he did. Standing in the doorway to the beachside mansion he was renting, was Louis Tomlinson.  
‘Harry, this is Louis’ Perrie introduced the two of them. Harry was instantly hooked, more than any other drug he’d tried, and trust him, by now Harry had done every drug in the book. Louis was a good few inches shorter than Harry and had the most stunning ass he’d ever seen. His hair was fluffy and pulled back into a quiff and his eyes sparkled, he was such a twink and Harry was so into him.  
‘Lovely to meet you, wow, I don’t think I’ve been to such a great party before.’ Louis smiled politely.  
‘Oh well, we’ve got a fantastic beach down there a-‘ Before Harry could finish his sentence, Nick fucking Grimshaw stepped in. Was this…real?  
‘So, y’know, Harry, I see you’ve met my boyfriend Louis’ Louis blushed as Nick took him firmly by the arm. All he could do in that moment was stare up at Harry, with his slightly open black shirt showing his gorgeous tattooed skin and sculpted torso, his beautifully high cheekbones and sharp jawline.  
‘We aren’t dating Nick, as you’ve made very clear in the past, so if you’d excuse me for a second.’ Louis smirked, taking Harry’s arm and leading him over to a quieter corner of the open-plan lounge.  
‘I can’t believe we’ve never met before, I’m ever so sorry about him.’  
‘Hey look, it’s okay’ Harry says, placing a hand on the smaller boy’s waist, pulling him closer. ‘I’d love to take you out sometime, if that’s okay with you?’  
Louis smiles, using his fingertips to undo the remaining buttons on Harry’s shirt. ‘Of course’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading this!! I didn't even think like one person would want to so I'm really surprised and super grateful. <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i felt so uncomfortable whilst writing this but here it is

‘So, I was a little taken aback when you asked me out to dinner.’ Louis says, his fingers skimming over his wine glass, making deep eye contact with Harry.  
‘Why’s that?’ Harry asks, allowing the rings on his finger to tap against his own glass.  
‘Aren’t you married?’ Louis smiles with his plump lips, which are painted with a deep red lipstick, then proceeding to sip the pale alcoholic substance.  
‘Married people can’t have friends?’ Harry asks, raising an eyebrow.  
‘Oh, we’re not gonna be friends’ Louis says in a lower tone, brushing his hand up to Harry’s cheekbone. The bill comes, and Harry tips heavily, which charms Louis, who has always been attracted to men with good manners. Harry takes him by the arm and leads him into a black Ferrari.

‘You’re a designer, aren’t you?’ Harry asks, moving his eyes to meet Louis’.  
‘Yeah, I usually design lingerie, y’know…m’not sure if you’re into that.’ Harry can barely breathe as he feels his length harden against his thigh.  
‘You wearing lingerie?’ Harry barely manages to breathe, allowing his accent to lower even further than usual and become more sultry.  
‘Uh-huh.’ Louis nods shyly. Harry moans slightly, biting his knuckles and placing his other hand on Louis’ thigh. That must be a yes, Louis assumes.  
The car stops outside Louis’ upper east side townhouse, a dark building with floral hanging baskets and plants lining the entrance. A thick silence fills the atmosphere until Louis turns to face Harry and invites him up for ‘tea’.  
‘Tea? Yeah I love tea, like, darjeeling or rosehip or somethin'?'

Louis holds the door open for Harry then locks it behind him, giving Harry the opportunity to admire that perky arse that he adores so much.  
‘How about you light the fire over there?’ Louis asks. Harry nods. Louis shuts the French doors leading to the bedroom, leaving him to puzzle over the fireplace. He’s halfway there until his phone rings. It’s Emma.

‘Go home to your wife, go home. Pretend this never happened’. Harry repeats to himself in his head, until the French doors slide open again. And Louis is standing there, arms at the side of the doors, in a pair of black, lacy thigh-high tights, and pink lacy panties, which leave very little to the imagination. Harry’s jaw drops.

And for a whole thirty seconds, he's in ecstasy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall, Zayn and Liam deal with Harry's assistant's ex, who stole from their mansion during a giant orgy. Buckle the fuck up, y'all. Issa good one.

From that moment on, Louis and Harry couldn’t get enough of each other, and it wasn’t just the sex, which was perfect. No, they had similar interests and genuinely got along with each other. By now, Louis had moved into Harry’s house–again, no. Not the shitty one he’d had with Emma, who he’d filed his divorce papers with three days after his night out with Louis. This was something else. A huge home, if you could even call it that due to its vast size, on West 10th Street. Huge glass chandeliers, an in-home cinema, enough bedrooms to fuck Louis’ brains out in a different room each night for a week straight…it was as close to heaven as money could buy. On top of that, the place had an insanely unnecessary team of housekeepers, chefs, and maids, all able to do anything they wanted. Harry had also hired a personal assistant, Jade, a stylish woman with the beautiful couple’s best interests at heart at all times. She’d became a close friend of the both of them and was always there to ward off press, reschedule anything, or even just keep Harry level-headed.

But not this time.

‘Fucking shit!’ Louis calls out, as he watches the scene unfold right in front of his eyes. His hands drop the numerous luxury shopping bags so they crash to the floor, spilling his garments onto the carpet. A heterosexual orgy going on in his home. Oh my God. Did he even know any straight people? What the fuck?  
‘Baby, what’s up?’ Harry says groggily, over the phone, still adjusting to the time zone shift. ‘You know I’m in Australia, remember?’  
‘No, no Harry, there’s a load of straights having sex in our lounge!’  
‘Fucking what?! Oh baby, stay calm, what’s going on?’ Harry says in a panicked tone to Louis, who is currently surrounded by heteros running out of his house, grabbing their clothes as they go.  
‘I…I just came back from shopping, w-with Bebe, a-and they were everywhere, babe! They’re leaving now an-ew, oh my God! Let me check our bedroom…’  
‘Stay calm love, I’ll talk to housekeeping about this.’  
‘Shit! My jewellery! A-and my Prada jacket! The Givenchy shoes, the Chanel hoops…they’re gone! We’ve been robbed!’ Louis sits on the plush duvet cover, removing his Valentino heels in despair and sobbing down the phone to Harry, who’s now pacing up and down the hotel suite at 2am, with his hand running through his hair in disbelief, attempting to calm his extremely flustered boyfriend.

‘Jade, what the fuck is going on?’ He asks, trying to remain as positive about the situation as possible.  
‘I…I don’t know what you’re talking about..?’ She stammers.  
‘Why’s my house being used for some sort of sex party? Especially when you’re not even in NYC right now? You’re in London, right?’  
‘Oh, shit, yeah. I…well, don’t freak out, but I kind of let some of my ex’s friends stay over? I know, I know, please don’t be mad?’  
‘Jade, how can I not be mad when half of Louis’ clothes are missing?’

–––

‘Okay, I know Harry doesn’t mind having people round’ Niall chuckles, pacing around the living room, slowly, with Liam and Zayn behind him, with their hands on Louis’ shoulders and back to calm him down. ‘But when $30,000 of his money goes missing, and all of Louis’ clothes go missing? See, that’s why you and I need to talk, Mister.’  
‘I…okay. Where do I start?’ The guy, Joe, rests back on the plush sofa.  
‘Just start from the beginning you fuckin’ moron’ Zayn spits, rolling his eyes.  
‘A-alright. So, I, uh, I call Jade, and I ask if she has a place in New York I can stay in with a few friends of mine for the weekend, so she says, yeah, I can use your place-‘  
‘Yeah, nice one, Jade. Real fuckin’ smart.’ Liam retaliates, interrupting Joe.  
‘…then, it kinda just escalated from there, ‘cuz we were kinda high on coke and shit, and…’   
‘Okay, okay, shut the fuck up for a second. You and your high hetero mates stole from my best friend’s home, and whatever the fuck makes you think you can get away with that shit, you can wipe it out ya fookin’ head right now, got it?’ Niall puts his palms down on the coffee table and levels his face next to Joes, narrowing his eyes.  
‘Right. Now I get it. It’s because I’m straight.’ Joe says, throwing his hands up in the air with exasperation.  
‘What the fuck? You really think we’re pissed at you because you’re straight?’ Zayn rolls his eyes again. ‘Fucking…Niall’s straight! He’s as hetero as they come, bro!’  
‘Wouldn’t go that far mate, but yeah, I’m straight!’ Everyone in the room adjusts their gaze to Niall, who then scratches the back of his neck with a certain degree of awkwardness. The tension is still thick in the room, not just because of Niall’s sudden announcement of not having the same level of heterosexuality as was once presumed, but because Joe is still here, not confessing anything whatsoever.

‘Listen, pal. Wether you wanna admit shit or not, that’s up to you. But hundreds of thousands of dollars were stolen from my mate’s house…look, we know what it’s like to get up to shit-we’re fucking degenerates ourselves okay? But listen here…’ Zayn shifts his position, taking another drag of his blunt, and walks up to Joe, his leather jacket slung over his petite shoulders. ‘We can do this, or the cops can. Your choice.’  
‘Dude, I swear to God, I don’t even know what happened, I was just with my bro’s, and the-‘

Liam strides up besides Zayn and cuts off Joe’s grovelling with a swift punch in the nose, and another, and a third and final blow, which sends crimson blood splattering over the room, and a fair amount into Niall’s face, who then runs to the balcony, vomiting into the streets of Manhattan. Louis runs after him, with some kitchen towel and a small bag of coke to fix the trauma. Liam then proceeded to haul Joe over his shoulders, then flip him over the balcony, grabbing him by the ankles.

‘Oh shit, no, no no no, the PR from this is gonna be terrible, just call the fuckin’ cops’ Jade yells, flinging her phone over to Zayn, who picks it up and dials 911.

The police arrive a couple minutes after, allowing Zayn to explain what happened. He pays both cops $1,000, and lets them kick Joe’s ass.  
‘Thanks for your help, officers!’ Niall calls, hearing the screaming from Joe as he slams the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't actually believe I wrote a chapter this long, finally! so sorry for keeping you all waiting, I hope this is worth the wait. xo

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaye chapter one is finished ! sorry it's so short lmao I've always wanted to write this so I hope you guys enjoy it.


End file.
